How to be a Dragonlord
by Blue Teller
Summary: Balinor wasn't an idiot - there was a reason why he survived while all the other Dragonlords didn't. You think he's going to die uselessly stabbed by some random bandit? Oh heck no! Rewrite of Balinor's arc, part II of the "Simple Logic" series, sequel to "Of Destinies, Inevitability and Simple Logic". Pointing out plot-holes, humor. Can be read separately.


**How to be a Dragonlord**

* * *

While it is true that sometimes people of humble beginnings can turn out scarily clever or powerful, it is even more true that the majority of population is - frankly speaking - morons. And unfortunately, it hardly matters if people have power and opportunities if they are too stupid to use them.

With that said, one stupid man alone can't possibly mess up too badly in the grand scheme of things... unless of course he's powerful. One stupid man with an excess of power is very much capable of inflicting significant damage upon the world, including the small fraction of the population who actually has power _and_ the brains to use it. But when that man happens to possess both absolute authority and a particularly vicious vendetta against people who were morons in majority?

Well, it's the perfect recepcie for an utter disaster.

Balinor, fortunately for him, was one of the few Dragonlords who were actually smart - or rather, he just possessed this unbelievably scarce gift called _common sense_. So as soon as he heard about King Uther's declaration against all magic, he hopped onto the back of his spirit-kindred dragon (much to Kilgharrah's protests that he was _not_ a horse) and got the hell out of Camelot.

Sadly, other magic-users didn't get the hint and despite the fact that they could have easily escaped, even without a dragon at their disposal (they had _magic_ for crying out loud, even the weakest sorcerers should be able to figure out how to make themselves elusive, or to simply outsmart Uther's men - who, let's be honest, weren't the brightest tools in the shed), they let themselves be hunted down like chickens in the front yard. Which, Balinor had to be fair, many brought it on themselves, with still blatantly flaunting their skills on the streets weeks after the ban had been established (because seriously, just _what_ were they _thinking_? Uther Pendragon was clearly insane, there was no hope of changing his mind through making flowers and rainbows with magic to show off how wonderful and whimsical it is). Around the same time, Balinor gained a whole new level of respect towards the druids, who - unlike the rest of magic-users - actually got the idea and began to _hide_ , and successfully continued to do so.

Balinor wasn't the only Dragonlord to escape the Purge. However, he was apparently the only surviving Dragonlord who had his reasoning skills intact, because when Uther sent the invoice about his desire for peace between Camelot and the remaining Dragonlords, the others actually believed it.

Unfortunately his protests were completely laughed off.

"You must be insane!" Balinor said, waving his hands frantically. "This is a setup! How can you not see that?"

"Oh, come on, Balinor," the others said with gullible confidence. "King Uther has finally come to his senses! He must have realized just how futile his quest for exterminating magic is."

"No, obviously he's setting a trap so as soon as we come to Camelot he can kill us all!"

"Technically, Dragonlord aren't even sorcerers. Why would he want to kill us? Who would control the dragons then?"

Balinor sputtered in disbelief. "Well, have you considered that since he despises magic so much, _maybe_ he wants to get rid of magical creatures, _including_ the dragons!"

His companions laughed loudly, as if they hadn't seen the witch-hunts happening with their very own eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Balinor. One does not simply kill all the dragons."

(After such fate-tempting statement Balinor had no further doubt that Uther would, in fact, kill all the dragons.)

"If you're so worried, why don't you talk to your dragon about it?"

"Yeah Balinor! Talk to your Amazing Dragon of Grand Destinies and see what he tells you." The rest of the Dragonlords exchanged amused looks between each other.

Kilgharrah had always been something of a joke among them. While his status as one of the oldest dragons alive warranted some respect, most believed his mind to be the equivalent of a senile old man.

Balinor groaned. He absolutely hated his dragon's "destiny" speeches. Unlike the others he knew Kilgharrah wasn't actually crazy, but for the life of him Balinor couldn't understand why he insisted in speaking riddles all the time. Why couldn't he be blunt and straight-forward like the rest of his kind? It figured that fate would assign the only reasonable Dragonlord in existence the one dragon incapable of colloquial speech.

Still it was worth a shot, so Balinor went to Kilgharrah to ask his opinion. And lo and behold, for the first time in his life he got a straight answer.

"This is the worst idea I've heard in half of the millenium."

Balinor sighed in relief. "Yes, thank you! Finally someone gets it."

"...However I'm afraid this course of action is inevitable."

The Dragonlord stopped to gawk in disbelief.

"What, I'm supposed to just let them commit suicide by staying here as they all go to Camelot to get themselves killed?"

"Why of course not, young Dragonlord. You cannot change their minds, you see. But you're not letting them go by themselves."

Kilgharrah let that sink in for a minute.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"It is destiny, Balinor."

"Are you telling me it's destiny to let myself be killed for their incompetence?! How does that make sense!"

"Because if you don't, people of Albion will be doomed and magic will never return to this land."

Balinor frowned in disbelief. " _How_ , exactly?"

"The path before us is twisted and slippery, my kin. I cannot tell what it will lead to yet. But without you going to Camelot, the Golden Age will not come, and even darker times will follow."

"You're telling me to sacrifice myself for the greater good? That's reassuring!"

"Nobody said you're going to die, young Dragonlord. But you have to go with them."

Balinor realized he really had to do it and pressed two fingers to his brow in exasperation. Then something occurred to him. "What about you, Kilgharrah? Are you going to stay behind?"

Kilgharrah huffed in indignation. "Who do you take me for, you silly human?! Of course I'm coming with you! I will not hide as the rest of my kind is slaughtered!" The dragon paused. "...Even if they are not a very bright bunch."

The Dragonlord sighed in similar resignation.

"Kilgharrah, why are we the only sensible people left in this group?"

"Natural selection, I'm afraid," the Great Dragon said sagely. "It would seem that brawn prevails over brains."

"Typical."

Kilgharrah rolled his eyes, which was a rare sight. "Honestly, Balinor. How else did you think Uther managed to pull off the Purge?"

"I was thinking something among the lines of the sorcerers being outnumbered," the Dragonlord admitted, disillusioned.

Kilgharrah shrugged helplessly.

* * *

So Balinor went with the others, and wouldn't you know it, it was a trap all along. He could have gloated to his friends over being right, if it wasn't for the minor fact that they all had been slaughtered as the result. He was the only Dragonlord left, and Kilgharrah was the only dragon alive.

Neither of them were going to be executed anytime soon, though. How did that happen, you wonder?

"Oh, Uther, you have bested me!" Balinor cried theatrically when the King approached him in his cell. "I am so absolutely and utterly defeated. There is no hope for me. But... If I may ask for one last thing before I die?"

"I will do your kind no favor, filthy sorcerer scum," Uther spitted out the insults with disgust.

"I know, and I do understand!" Balinor paused for the effect, then sighed. "However... let it be known that although I've never acknowledged my illegitimate son before, I do love him still, and I'm sure he'll make a wonderful Dragonlord after me."

There was a long moment of silence. Even the guards seemed too scared to breathe.

" _ **What?!** You have a son?!_" the King yelled in shock and fury.

Of course he didn't. Balinor was barely twenty years old, he'd never even been with a woman. But if sentiment for his non-existent son was going to save his and Kilgharrah's lives, then sure why not.

"Oh, how long it had been since I have seen his face," Balinor continued tearfully. He even managed to make it seem as if his eyes watered from grief, and not struggling not to laugh. "I don't even know where he might be right now, or how his mother decided to name him... I'm sure he'd come looking for me one day, once the magic in his blood awakens! But if I'm not here, I'm sure he would find the dragons, should there still be at least one alive."

Line, hook, sinker.

Uther was well aware that Dragonlord abilities were passed on from father to son upon the former's death. It should have him chasing the non-existent trail in an instant. Balinor also prayed for the infamous Pendragon obliviousness to work in his favor.

And apparently it was his lucky day, for Uther's mouth quickly shaped into a confident smirk.

"I am so glad to hear it, Balinor. If your son is sure to find you, we might as well keep you and your dragon alive as bait," Uther Pendragon said smugly. Balinor widened his eyes in fake horror, and Uther's smirk turned into a cruel grin. "I will have the beast chained beneath the castle as a living proof that I have triumphed over magic. As for you? Don't worry, Balinor, you'll see your son again... tied to the pyre in the courtyard. In fact, I'll make sure you watch his last moments as he burns for his crimes... a fitting punishment for the son of the last Dragonlord, isn't it?"

"You won't get away with this, Uther!" Balinor cried out dramatically, struggling in his chains. Not that there was any point - even if his magic wasn't blocked by these cursed cuffs, he wasn't nearly strong enough to break them. Still, it made a good show.

"I am the King of Camelot, and I will make sure your kind is purged from this land once and for all! Including your bastard son," Uther declared with superiority and left the dungeon. As soon as he left, Balinor sagged in his chains and chuckled.

"Take your time, you thick-headed prat," he whispered to himself with satisfaction. If Uther was going to waste his time looking for more Dragonlords, hopefully some other magic-users could use it to flee or hide. Balinor belatedly wondered about the damage Uther would cause searching for his 'son'. He prayed that the lie would not cost innocent children their lives, because his own life would never be worth deaths of infants. Thank goodness Uther had no idea how old his "son" was supposed be, otherwise it could have been disastrous.

One week later, fate smiled to the last Dragonlord when an old friend visited.

"Gaius!" Balinor exclaimed with surprise when the man showed up in his cell.

"I am here to make a check up on the prisoner," Gaius said loudly with a neutral expression. When the physician came closer, he whispered into the Dragonlord's ear: "I have everything ready to get you out of here tonight. I'll explain later."

Balinor made a small nod, making sure it wasn't visible to the guards outside. Gaius was fast and efficient, and left without a word after making sure he didn't have any diseases or wounds that could result in his death. After all, he was only useful to Uther alive.

When the night came, the guards suddenly dropped. Shortly afterwards, Gaius appeared with the key.

"How did you do that? Did you cast a spell on them?" Balinor asked curiously, knowing the old man would never kill innocent men to recuse him.

"No, but I did add a sleeping potion into their supper. I swore to Uther I would never use magic again, and I intend to keep my word."

"Why do you still serve him Gaius?! How can you stand by his side after everything he's done?" Balinor whispered furiously as the physician removed his cuffs.

Gaius looked at him, his eyes tired and hunted. "Because Balinor, if I leave, there will be no one else left. There will be no others to stop him from slaughtering innocent people, no one to placate his lust for the blood of sorcerers." He sighed, and he appeared twenty years older than before the Purge. "Also, he's still my friend. He spared my life, even though he knows about my magic."

"He doesn't deserve your friendship or loyalty," Balinor said darkly.

"Perhaps you're right. But surely you understand sometimes we have to make hard choices in order to survive."

The Dragonlord could do nothing but nod in reluctant agreement. "True enough, considering the lies I told Uther about my so-called son."

Gaius raised his eyebrow.

"Judging by that statement, I suppose then you haven't spawned any illegitimate children after all?"

"Nope, not a chance."

"His Highness is thoroughly convinced you have a son out there, plotting his demise."

Balinor rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous. Even if I _did_ have a child, they could hardly be older than a toddler at this point."

"I know, but the King's paranoia knows no bounds these days," Gaius switched the cuffs with a pair that looked like it had been torn apart with bare hands. "However, I recently discovered a fatal weakness in your story, and I had no choice but to rescue you before King Uther realizes it as well."

"What is it?"

"You told the King that the magic in your son's blood would draw him to the dragon, as well as yourself."

"...Which as you probably already know, is utter nonsense."

"Indeed. Fortunately for you though, he doesn't suspect it. The problem is that according to your logic, one of you is more than enough for a bait, which means he could just execute you at any time."

"Uther said he wants me to see my son burn."

"He could kill the last dragon in existence, then. It wouldn't bode well for the magic of this land."

"I haven't thought of it... thank you, Gaius."

"You're welcome," Gaius said quietly as he lead Balinor through the empty corridor. "There is a basket on the other side of the door. Hide in it, in a while a man I paid will come for it and take you to the wagon. For there you will be escorted outside Camelot."

"Were do I go?"

"Ealdor."

Balinor blinked. He'd never heard of such place. "Where's Ealdor?"

"It's a small village on the border with Essetir. My stepsister, Hunith, will take you in. I wrote her a letter, she will meet you there."

"That's very brave of her."

"Indeed, she's a remarkable woman." Gaius stopped. He glared at Balinor and - oh God save him from the infamous eyebrow! - said in a very grave voice: "Take good care of her, or the King's wrath will be the last of your worries." Balinor gulped, sweating.

"I swear, Gaius, I'll take good care of your sister, promise!" he said quickly, leaving the old man behind to hide in the basket.

At the time, Balinor had no idea at the time how ironically true this promise would turn out to be.

* * *

The journey to Ealdor went without a hitch, and the wagon driver left immediately after delivering the basket with a Dragonlord to Hunith. The moment Balinor was freed from the contracted space, all sweaty and smelly and still in his prisoner clothes, he was struck speechless by her unexpected beauty.

"Hello there," she smiled sweetly at him, her ocean-blue eyes glimmering in a mesmerizing way. "I hope your travel wasn't too difficult, my Lord."

Balinor had to swallow with much difficulty, before he found his voice. "I, uh... no, I'm... fine." The travel had been certainly hellish, but now? He was _just_ fine.

"Are you hungry, my Lord? I prepared the meal before your arrival, it should still be warm."

"Yes, thank you, that'd be, wonderful." Balinor stuttered and shook his head to get out of the daze. "And please, call me Balinor my Lady. I am a Lord no longer. Especially to you, with your incredibly brave and generous offer to help me in such desperate times."

Hunith's cheeks became a lovely shade of pink upon him calling her a Lady, which had Balinor captivated immediately. "If you insist, Balinor, but only if you call Hunith in return."

"As you wish." The Dragonlord couldn't stop himself from bestowing a kiss on her hand. The woman's cheeks went from pink to red, and Balinor realized he was in deep trouble.

It took him three days to admit to himself that he was head over the heels in love with Hunith. It took him one full week to confess it. It took them two weeks before the ended up sharing the bed. Somehow, all reason left him the moment he laid his eyes onto the beautiful woman. He forgot about Uther, he forgot about Kilgharrah, he forgot about the search for his non-existent son. He forgot all of it, and he happily settled down in the little village of Ealdor, despite losing everything and becoming nothing more than a peasant himself.

Sadly, it didn't last long.

It wasn't two months before Hunith received a letter from Gaius that there was a search party heading towards Ealdor. Filled with grief, Balinor had no choice but to leave in order to keep his beloved safe.

"I am so sorry, Hunith," he whispered, kissing Hunith with desperation of a man drowning. "I don't want to leave. Please forgive me." Tears were streaming down both of their faces.

"Can't you take me with you?" she asked tentatively, even though she already knew the answer.

"I can't, I'm sorry." Hunith hid her face in the crook of his neck. "Uther believes I have an illegitimate son out there - if they find out about you they'll kill you."

"Oh?" Hunith lifted her head, looking at him with a humorous glint with her eyes in spite of her tears. "And what's the name of that scandalous son of yours?"

Balinor couldn't help but chuckle. Only Hunith could have made him laugh at a time like this. Truly, she was the most remarkable woman in the world. "He doesn't exist, love. That's the point."

"At least have the decency to name your poor non-existent heir, my Lord."

The man pondered, humoring her. "I've always liked the name Merlin, to be honest."

"Like the bird?"

"Yes, like the bird."

"What about a girl? Let me guess, Sparrow?"

"No, no of course not, how could you even think that? If I had a daughter," He paused for effect. "I would have named her Kestrel."

Hunith giggled, wiping her tears away. "What is it about you and birds, Balinor?"

He shrugged. "They fly. It reminds me of dragons. I miss them."

The love of his life smiled sadly at him, her eyes filling with tears again. "I wish it could have been. Me, you, the dragons... a little Merlin and a beautiful Kestrel."

"Me too. I wish it more than anything," Balinor sighed, kissing her once more. "But please, you have to forget about me. I want you to be happy. Find a good husband, have many wonderful children. Don't waste your life waiting for me."

"I could never forget about you."

"Neither could I... but please, promise me."

"Oh, Balinor..." was all she said as she embraced him.

Balinor didn't realize until years later, but she never made any promise.

* * *

He left before dawn, and he headed towards the Perilous Lands, a plan forming in his mind. As much as he didn't want to leave Ealdor and Hunith, he knew he couldn't return. It was utter foolishness that he had indulged himself with a relationship that could never be - if anyone ever found any proof that Hunith housed him, she would be killed immediately. But, now that he had nothing to lose, he could make a risky move that in the past would have never even crossed his mind.

What most people didn't know about the dragon tongue was that as a language of Old Religion, there were many creatures other than dragons which could understand it. One of them were the wyverns, distant cousins of the mighty dragons, which could also be forced to obey the commands of a Dragonlord.

Balinor wasn't ignorant. He was born and raised to be a Dragonlord, and although he inherited his father's abilities earlier than most of his kind, he knew perfectly what it meant and what he could do. He also knew that Uther remained unaware of the extent of Dragonlord abilities.

So, as soon as he entered the Perilous Lands, Balinor roared:

 ** _"O, nun! E male, soi ftengometta tesd'hup anakess!"_**

Only silence answered him at first. However he knew the wyverns were still a good distance away, so he waited.

A full hour passed, before a dozen or so of winged creatures entered his sight. Balinor smiled at them as they regarded him with curiosity.

"Well, then. Let them come at us, shall we?"

* * *

Many years passed. Balinor made his new home in the Perilous Lands, nearby the legendary Fisher King's tower, which was where his dragon-like companions lived. Hardly ever any humans visited - except for the few knight patrols from Camelot, whom Balinor avoided like the plague, who were stupid enough to pass through such dangerous territory. He never ordered his wyverns to attack the knights, and fortunately the mere presence of the creatures was enough to have them running, so no one ever reported Balinor's presence to Uther. But there were several occasions when a lone wanderer stumbled across his abode. If the wyverns were anything good at, it was making them talk and ensure their future silence. A few of them even turned out to be decent companions - after Balinor managed to convince them that he wouldn't have the wyverns rip their throats out, that is. He would almost call them friends, and he was always sad when it was time for them to leave.

Balinor lost the track of time, so he didn't realize that it was over twenty years since the Purge, since he was forced to flee Camelot for the first time. And while he was still angry and bitter about it - why wouldn't he be, after Uther had his entire culture wiped out from existence? - his current life wasn't half bad. Naturally, he wasn't living in a dark cave like a half-mad barbarian - that would be ridiculous! The bandits he robbed once or twice had a lot of equipment with them to ensure he had a decent living. The enchanted tower of the Fisher King welcomed him, to his surprise, so he had a strong shelter for winter and other times of violent weather. He was reluctant to stay there permanently, though. There was no way he could ever call the crypt of an invisible-yet-everpresent Sorcerer King a home. So, he managed to build himself a pretty sturdy cottage, after he had the wyverns fetch some wood and stones. As dumb as those beasts were in comparison to dragons, they could be very useful.

He still missed his dragon and wished he could free Kilgharrah one day, but the problem was, he had no idea how he could free his dragons from the chains he saw Uther use. They weren't just magical or cursed; they were made specifically to absorb magic, and it would take a very powerful tool and an even more powerful sorcerer to break them. If only he knew if there were more magic-users out there...

But he couldn't leave the Perilous Lands, for without the wyverns he stood no chance against Uther's army. And he couldn't take the creatures with him either, because nothing would gather more attention from the mad King than a man leading a pack of magical creatures into his kingdom.

In other words, he was stuck. But if there was any advantage to his exile, it was that Balinor could hone his abilities to perfection, since he had nothing better to do with himself.

And powerful he did become.

Quite on accident he discovered that the cockatrice - a dangerous creature of magic, which miraculously stumbled across his land from the remotely located Forest of Balor - also had to yield under his command. The next Balinor managed to control was the manticore, and he could not be more relieved, since those were very dangerous, even to his wyverns, and not at all friendly. When a group of the nathairs, serpent-like creatures from the Mountains of Asgorath passed through the Perilous Lands for migration period, he tried to speak to them, even though he doubted dragon language would have any effect on them. Much to his surprise, he could communicate with them very easily. They weren't compelled to listen to him unconditionally, but they were docile in nature and easy to persuade to spy in Camelot for him. He learned quite a bit thanks to them.

Magic was still banned in Camelot, the all magic-users were either gone and in hiding. People distrusted sorcery and magic of any kind, but mostly out of fear of Uther rather than actual hatred. Uther's son, Prince Arthur Pendragon, became known as the best sword-fighter in the land. Gaius was still a physician at the king's court, which meant he was never discovered as the one who helped Balinor escape. Kilgharrah was still trapped beneath the castle, and Camelot made a peace treaty with Mercia. All valid information, but unfortunately useless to the Dragonlord.

Until one day, the nathairs reported to him that the Prince of Camelot himself was entering Perilous Lands, accompanied by no one beside a harmless-looking, unarmed boy.

* * *

Even before the Purge, Balinor was very good at moving silently. Sneaking up on a dragon was almost impossible, but through sheer stubbornness, Balinor learned how to do it just to annoy Kilgharrah at any time possible. It was a surprisingly useful skill to have, he discovered later on.

Of course he could just ride out in the open on a wyvern's back just to intimidate the Prince. But he was more curious than anything what the boy was doing so far away from the castle. When he came closer, he heard voices:

"...really, I'm alright," said a weak yet commanding, arrogant-sounding male voice. He guessed it was probably Pendragon.

"No, you're not. Let me see your wound," another voice, softer and younger but stern and worried, responded.

"Don't be such a girl, _Mer_ lin. It's merely a scratch." Judging from the slight panting that accompanied these words, it was probably a severe understatement.

"A scratch from a dragon, you mean," Merlin's voice drawled out sarcastically.

Balinor gasped soundlessly, his eyes widening and jaw dropping in shock.

"Barely a flesh wound, Merlin. I've had worse."

"Somehow, that doesn't comfort me at all."

The pair continued to bicker, and the further exchange confirmed the the earth-shattering news: that there was a dragon, _a free dragon_ , which had gone on a rampage and wounded the Prince.

There was only one dragon left, and as the last Dragonlord there was no possibility that new dragons had been hatched in the past two decades. Balinor wasn't stupid, he knew what it meant.

Someone had freed Kilgharrah from his prison.

...someone who wasn't him.

It was a strange combination of relief, worry, bitterness and happiness all at once. He had been out there for so long while his kin suffered, imprisoned. Balinor should have been the one to set his dragon free, to end that suffering. But someone beat him to it, someone powerful enough to break through the anti-magic chain, and set the Great Dragon upon Camelot. Who did it? How did they do it? _Why_ did they do it? Was it for Kilgharrah's own good, or was his dragon being used in some political plot against Camelot?

When it came to Camelot, Balinor had mixed feelings. Oh, he definitely hated Uther. The man deserved worse than death. The people of Camelot, on the other hand, couldn't be blamed for their King's insanity. They were ignorant, but that didn't make them evil. They were not innocent, but they couldn't be all declared guilty of their king's crimes.

Camelot used to be his home, and in a secret corner of his heart Balinor missed it. It could never be his home again, not after everything he'd lost there, but he didn't want it destroyed. Especially not by his own dragon.

Kilgharrah. Oh, Kilgharrah, what had happened to him? Going on a blind rampage was completely against the dragon's character! He must have been driven mad there, alone in darkness for twenty years. Balinor wouldn't mind having a chance to repetitively impale Uther on sharp objects, so he perfectly understood the need for revenge, but... Why attack the whole city? Why not just kill the man responsible and leave? It didn't make any sense.

Balinor snapped out of his pensive state when the second voice - Merlin, he remembered - started rambling in panic:

"No, Arthur, you need to stay awake! We have to make a camp, you can't- Arthur? Arthur!"

Something about that young man's sincere worry for the Prince made Balinor peek from his hiding spot to see what was going on.

A lanky, tall youth with dark hair was holding a well-built, unconscious blond man in his arms, his face white and fear written all over it.

"Come on, you prat, you can't do this! You said yourself it was barely a flesh wound!"

It took Balinor two second to realize what the young man, obviously a servant, called his master and it took all of his self-control not to snort loudly. _Really?_ Prince Arthur, Uther Pendragon's heir, called _a prat_ by his own manservant? Oh, this was rich. Balinor was going to remember this.

There was something about that boy, Merlin. Something unique. He wasn't acting like a servant, frightfully fretting over his master's health. Instead, he behaved like a concerned family member whose kin had been injured. How very unusual...

It suddenly hit the Dragonlord; the Prince was _wounded_. Possibly his very life was in danger. And the only person anyone could turn to for help around here was Balinor himself. He was going to either reveal himself, or walk away.

...if only that had been a real decision.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, startled by his sudden appearance.

Balinor made a non-threatening gesture. "Your friend is sick. Do you need help?"

It was painfully obvious that help was needed, but it was still only polite to ask.

"Yes," Merlin stammered, his eyes wide. He appeared too desperate to question his motives or be suspicious of him, which was both good and a bad sign. "Please, help him."

Balinor nodded and knelt next to the Prince. There was a nasty wound on his back, blood seeping through the bandages. While not the worst he'd seen, it wasn't good. He would need to use a little magic to heal it, otherwise the Prince would bleed too much for recovery to be possible. He glanced at the dark-haired boy speculatively.

"We need to take him to my home," he said, deciding for the moment that this Merlin seemed quite harmless. He certainly wasn't going to stab in the back the only person capable of helping his master. The Prince was in no condition to harm a squirrel. There should be no problem with taking them both back to the cottage. "Help me get him back on the horse."

Merlin immediately followed the command, handling his Prince with utmost care. Balinor didn't miss how he chewed his lip nervously, glancing between them with a storm of emotion in his eyes. Those eyes... they reminded him of something. They were a lot like hers - Hunith's.

Balinor dismissed the thoughts of his beloved immediately. Perhaps the boy's innocent-looking features reminded him of the woman he loved twenty years ago, but that was hardly the time to think about it.

"How far away is your home?" Merlin asked with worry.

"Not very far," Balinor said soothingly. Usually he was harsh and suspicious towards the newcomers, but something about this boy made the Dragonlord soften. He blamed it on the fact he hadn't interacted with children ever since he'd left Ealdor, and Merlin very much reminded him of a frightened child. "Come along."

Balinor noted with confusion that Merlin had a small smile on his face, following without hesitation.

Like he promised, the cottage wasn't very far at all. Balinor was glad he made sure all the wyverns cleared out before, he didn't want to scare the boy. He seemed to be in a fragile state at the moment, at least emotionally. Merlin kept glancing at him, and there was a gleam of something in his eyes that made Balinor feel uncertain, although not in a bad way. He had no idea what to make of it.

Luckily he had a fresh collection of herbs, being warned of the trespassers in advance by his nathair spy network - he always made preparations in case something happened and he suddenly needed medical plants, but couldn't be spotted gathering them. As soon as Balinor found out it was the Camelot's Prince coming through, he realized he couldn't harm the young Pendragon, nor could he let him die. Not because of honor or sympathy - he had no love for Uther's spawn - but for the fact that he wasn't so stupid to let the king's son go missing in his land and then have the entire Camelot army coming to look for him.

He put his hand on the Prince's injury and whispered the healing spell, hoping the servant boy wasn't observant enough to realize what he'd done. Although it seemed a rather foolish thing to hope for, considering the boy hadn't taken his eyes off him the entire time. Balinor still hadn't decided what he was going to do with the two of them after Prince Arthur got better. Perhaps he should just give a false name and let them go - he contemplated, as he tried to recall the spell that would put the Prince into a resting trance. It would help with the man's recovery and hopefully let Balinor get rid of the pair sooner. Yes, it seemed like a good plan. They were hardly going to recognize him as the man who escaped Camelot's dungeon years ago-

"You're Balinor, aren't you?" Merlin spoke all of a sudden, his voice filled with awe and something else. Gratitude? "The last Dragonlord."

Balinor barely restrained the urge to curse out loud.

"I believe you have me mistaken with someone else," he said gruffly, aware that he wasn't very convincing at all.

Merlin shook his head. "No, you're definitely him."

"And how would _you_ know, boy?"

The servant boy swallowed. "I... I just do."

Balinor sighed with annoyance. "Even if I were this 'Balinor', what of it? Obviously I'm no Lord. I'm just a hermit living in the middle of nowhere."

"But you still hold the power to command dragons, do you not?"

Of course, this was what it was all about. Why wasn't he surprised.

"What if I did?" he responded bitterly, deciding to act oblivious for now. "There are no dragons left. Uther," he spatted the name which always left a foul taste in his mouth "Had them slaughtered, every single one of them. With all my brothers and sisters and every Dragonlord in Camelot." Suddenly there was such sadness on Merlin's face, as if he could feel the ache of the loss with him.

"I am sorry," he whispered, and Balinor was shocked by the sincerity of it. Perhaps he had lost family to Uther's insanity as well? It wouldn't explain why the boy served the Prince of Camelot, though. Or why he seemed so attached to the young Pendragon. This boy was made of contradictions.

"It makes no difference, now," said Balinor, wishing he could wipe that expression from Merlin's face. Such profound understanding of grief didn't belong there. "It is in the past." In the past, sure, but he was never going to get over it. But the boy didn't need to know that.

"You're wrong," Merlin suddenly blurted out.

"Wrong?"

"There is still one dragon left in Albion."

Albion. Now, were had Balinor heard that word before? It must have been so long ago, he just couldn't remember...

"Is there?" he asked in an indifferent tone.

"He is attacking Camelot right now." The boy was suddenly right in front of him, his face transforming into an expression of grim determination. He seemed more a man now than a boy. "Please, you have to help us."

Even though Balinor knew he was going to give in eventually - if not for the boy's sake, at least for dragon's - but he felt resentment at such bold statement. "Do I? I owe Uther nothing. Why should help you save his kingdom?"

Merlin was indignant. "Innocent people are dying!"

"Innocent people died in the Purge as well!" Balinor shot back with anger. "Hundreds of them! But did anyone help them?! No! Why? Because people are stubborn, selfish, but most of all _stupid_."

The boy frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Balinor sighed with exasperation. "Just think about it. Why do you need a Dragonlord to stop the dragon?"

"B-because... we can't stop him without one?"

It was the second time he referred to Kilgharrah as a 'him', Balinor noticed, as opposed to an 'it'. Did the boy sympathize with creatures of magic? How strange coming from a man of Camelot, the place where magic was named the greatest evil under the sun.

"Exactly," Balinor continued. "And why can't you stop him with any other means?"

"Um...?" The boy looked utterly confused. He took mercy on him and explained:

"Because, boy, _Uther_ had destroyed literally all defenses his kingdom used to have against sorcery and creatures of magic. And I'm not just talking about Dragonlords. There used to be wards, powerful spells, protecting the kingdom from such easy attacks. But guess what? Twenty years passed without a Court Sorcerer or Sorceress to renew them and they fell. All of that," Balinor made a wide gesture with him arm "Could have been avoided if Uther ordered one, just _one_ , magic-user in his court - which I happen to know that he has - to renew the wards against magical beasts and dark enchantments. And they wonder why magic started attacking Camelot once again with renewed strenght? Ha!"

Merlin's face went slack with disbelief. "Wait, what? Seriously?!"

Balinor nodded. "Imagine, there used to be dozens of Dragonlords, and each of them had a dragon of their own. If there was no protection on Camelot, there was no possible way we wouldn't have stayed and fought against the Purge. We could have conquered Camelot with little effort if it wasn't for the wards." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Even so, I don't believe we could have managed to rule Camelot successfully, since..."

"What?" There was unbidden curiosity in the boy's eyes, and Balinor found himself explaining:

"Dragons are solitary creatures. After spending our whole lives with them, Dragonlords often adapt a bit of their nature. We Dragonlords were... let's just say, not a very tight community. In fact, we all fought each other all the time. I was the only reasonable one, I'm afraid."

"Really?" Merlin moved closer, enraptured in his story for some reason.

Before he knew it, Balinor started telling him of how he was the only one who realized the King's treachery before time, how he lied to get himself out of the death sentence. When he spoke about his lie to Uther, Merlin's eyes grew wide with shock.

"You... you told the King you had a _son_?"

"And he fell for it immediately. You see, Dragonlords pass on their abilities to their sons upon their deaths. If I really had a son, and Uther killed me, he would have created a new Dragonlord somewhere out of his reach. It also made him waste resources on finding my 'heir' instead of looking for real magic-users. But since I don't really have a son it didn't matter."

"Oh." There was a strange expression on Merlin's face all of a sudden.

"Why making that face? It's not like it concerns you or anything."

Merlin rubbed his neck with a sheepish expression.

"Uh, how do I put this? The lie you told Uther... is not actually a lie."

Balinor stared blankly at the boy for a moment. "What?"

"You, uh, do have one. A son, I mean."

"No I don't," the last Dragonlord protested immediately. "I definitely would have known if I did!"

"So there wasn't anyone? No chance at all?"

Balinor's mouth shut with a loud 'click' when the image of Hunith appeared in his head. Alright, so maybe the lie he told Uther was only impossible before his arrival in Ealdor... Still, what were the chances that-

Wait. The boy. The name.

 _"And what's the name of that scandalous son of yours?"_

 _"He doesn't exist, love. That's the point."_

 _"At least have the decency to name your poor non-existent heir, my Lord."_

 _"I've always liked the name Merlin, to be honest."_

"Impossible," his lips whispered without permission.

Merlin avoided his gaze.

"Where are you from, boy? What's your mother's name?"

"I'm from Ealdor. My mother's name is Hunith," he said quietly.

It could be a setup. A trick. But then again, who else knew about him and Hunith except the two of them? She could have told Gaius, but Gaius wouldn't have betrayed him... right?

Still, he had to be sure.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

Balinor gulped nervously. "Did your mother marry?"

"No. There's never been..." Merlin seemed to shrink under Balinor's intense stare. "She never told me who my father was. Gaius told me just before we went looking for you."

So Gaius knew. Of course he knew, Hunith was his sister for goodness' sake! The old man was going to _kill_ him for sure the next time they saw each other. Still, Balinor had survived worse.

Maybe.

"So you're my..." He choked on the words. "I'm your..."

Merlin smiled shakily at him. "Yeah. You're my father."

Balinor leaned back against the tree, stunned.

Well. His oh-so-clever lie turned out to be not so false after all. There's irony for you.

"I know it's a lot to take in..."

Balinor stopped him with a raised hand. "Wait, just... give me a moment."

Merlin obediently stopped talking, watching him with nervous anticipation.

So. It appeared he and Hunith had created a son. A son Balinor had no idea that existed - not that it was his fault for not knowing... except it kind of was, because he left, but damn it all he didn't have a choice - if he hadn't told Uther that lie he could have taken Hunith with him! But he would have been killed otherwise, the lie seemed like a good idea at the time but he had put his actually-existing-son in danger without knowing and-

"Hold on!" Balinor turned his head sharply to stare at Merlin. "If you're my son, what the hell are you doing in the company of Arthur Pendragon?"

"Well, you see, I'm his manservant-"

"Manservant?!" the last Dragonlord exclaimed incredulously. "You're Uther's son's manservant?! Have you lost your mind!"

"No, I have a very good reason actually," Merlin said sincerely, which didn't help his case in Balinor's eyes.

"Foolish boy, if Uther ever finds out your about your heritage, you'll land on the pyre before you can _blink_!"

"He won't find out! Nobody knows beside Gaius and my mother. Even _you_ didn't know!"

That shut Balinor up quite effectively. That was a very valid point - beside the fact that Merlin's age didn't match up with Uther's believes about his son. Still: "What was your mother thinking, letting you go to Camelot?"

"She sent me there."

Now that made no sense at all. "Why?" Balinor asked disbelievingly. He'd always thought Hunith to be a clever woman - had he been so in love he was mistaken?

Merlin looked down at his hands. "Ever since I was a child, I could... do things. With magic." He said slowly, hesitantly. "I had so much of it, but nothing to do with it. There were times when it almost got out of control. People started whispering about me. My mother grew worried. And then my friend Will found out..." His hands turned into fists. "So she sent me off to Gaius, hoping he would teach me. Help me make something of my gift, to give it a purpose."

That would be a logical choice - if Camelot wasn't a deathtrap for sorcerers and Uther didn't practice a hobby of beheading anyone who as much as whispered the word 'magic' without hostility. "There wasn't _anyone_ else who could have taught you?" he questioned, still unable to believe his beloved would sent their son to a certain fiery death.

Merlin shrugged. "Mother trusts Gaius. And I've been careful."

"Careful, alright," Balinor said sarcastically. "Except that apparently you're _working for the Pendragon family!_ "

"Arthur's nothing like his father," Merlin said with utter conviction. "And I have a destiny to protect him."

"Destiny?" the last Dragonlord repeated the all-too-familiar word. "Don't tell me... Kilgharrah told you that, didn't he?"

Merlin instantly turned embarrassed and bashful. "Um... yes? I know that he hadn't been very honest with me-"

"Merlin," Balinor interrupted, tasting the word. They both fell silent for a short moment, acknowledging him saying his son's name for the first time. "I know Kilgharrah, and I know he's one hell of a sneaky bastard when it comes to half-truths and manipulations... although he's usually right about destinies. Mostly," he muttered the last bit under his breath.

Merlin looked at him with surprise. "He is?"

"Yes. No," Balinor blurted out. He shook his head and sighed. "It's complicated... Destinies are never as straight-forward as it seems. If it's your 'destiny' to protect Uther's son, it might mean anything really. You could have a destiny to 'protect him' by tripping and accidentally preventing the Prince from getting stabbed or something."

"That's... literally what happened on my second day from meeting him," Merlin admitted with embarrassment.

"Oh." Balinor blinked. "Well then. Good job, son. Destiny accomplished."

The boy gaped at him. "That was _it_? It's that easy?"

The last Dragonlord shrugged. "Sometimes, it really is. Kilgharrah has a genuine prophetic gift, but he tends to blow things out of proportion, and he's a bit of an extremist. He thinks someone's a bad apple, and he insists to have them executed before they get a chance to prove themselves a threat."

Merlin's eyes glazed over. "That... explains quite a lot, actually."

"Speaking of Kilgharrah... How did he escape all of a sudden? Last thing I checked he was imprisoned beneath Camelot's castle with nearly unbreakable, magic-absorbing chains binding him."

Balinor's son suddenly had a guilty, very tired look. "It's a long story... and it's all my fault."

Merlin told the story of how he first heard the Great Dragon calling him ("Ah, I remember. Dragons could always communicate with Dragonlords like that. Kilgharrah used to bug me with it all the time - it was bloody annoying."), how the beast told him of his destiny ("Arthur _Pendragon_? The Once and Future King?! There's some delicious irony!") and how he didn't believe it at first, about the banquet and the sorceress disguised as Lady Helen and how he was rewarded by Uther ("You already had a job and lodgings with Gaius, and he made you his sons' manservant as a _reward_ as if you were a beggar? Honestly!"), how he used his magic to defend Camelot and Arthur again and again ("I'm taking the destiny thing that back, son, the Prince might need protection after all. It seems he attracts more trouble daily than a dragon hatching."), how the dragon forced a promise out of Merlin to release him one day ("You should have known better than make a such a deal with a dragon, son. These sneaky bastards never give up promised favors."), Merlin's vision, how eventually Kilgharrah forced him to fulfill his promise on the risk of his mother's life and finally, his and Arthur's quest to find the last Dragonlord.

"There were rumors of a hermit living in the Perilous Lands who could control the wyverns," Merlin finished his tale. "Gaius said there was a chance that it might be you hiding out there, and we should try seeking you out. To be honest, I'm surprised Uther had never tried sending people after you before, considering how much he wants you dead."

Balinor snorted. "Uther would have never figured out it was _me_ without Gaius telling him. He is incredibly thick, considering that I never would have survived otherwise."

Merlin's lips quirked in a smile. "I suppose that's true." Then he turned somber. "I understand that you hate Uther and feel like you have no obligation to Camelot. But..."

"You want me to make Kilgharrah's rampage stop," Balinor finished for him, frowning.

"Yes." Merlin swallowed. "Please, father."

Balinor looked away, his heart aching. Hearing that word from the son he never even knew that he had, it was surprising how huge of an impact it had on him. Truthfully, he had nothing to lose by ordering Kilgharrah to stop. If he were to be honest with himself, he had intended to do so even before hearing Merlin's story. As bitter as Balinor was about Uther, he didn't believe that the whole Camelot deserved to suffer for its King's foolishness. He had only been stalling with the decision because the thought of doing _Uther_ a favor of any kind repulsed him.

But, now he had additional motivation; the bloody dragon had threatened his beloved's life. _Twice_. Even though the cursed lizard must have known how much Hunith's meant to him.

This was unforgivable. In the times before the Purge, such conduct from a Dragonlord's own spirit-kindred beast was considered treason. He had the full right to take Kilgharrah's life at the very moment.

"I'll do it," he said after a long pause, looking back at his son.

A bright smile quickly bloomed on Merlin's face like a sun emerging from behind the clouds. "You will?"

"Yes, it seems the least I can do after all the trouble that damned dragon has put you through," Balinor grumbled, trying not to show how much the smile affected him.

"Thank you, father!"

"You're welcome, son."

"That's good I suppose - otherwise we would have come all this way for nothing." Suddenly a third voice said and the two dragon kin startled.

They stared at the no longer asleep, but wide-awake Prince of Camelot, who was looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Arthur!" Merlin squeaked, jumping to his feet. "I can explain-!"

"Yes, _Mer_ lin," Arthur drawled out, unperturbed. "I know you can. In fact, I just heard you explain _everything_."

Balinor cursed himself inwardly, only now realizing he had forgotten to put the sleeping trance spell on the Prince. Not entirely his fault, when Merlin dropped the revelation of knowing the last Dragonlord's identity at the exact moment he had been attempting the spell.

"So you heard," Balinor said calmly, in complete contrast to how panicked Merlin looked. The Prince was still injured and rather helpless at the moment, he could hardly threaten his manservant in this state - and even if he did, the Dragonlord had more than enough wyverns on standby to protect them both if the need arose.

For now, he was curious to see how things would play out.

"Indeed, I _heard_. Apparently Merlin isn't as useless as he seems after all, even though he possesses no self-preservation whatsoever," said Arthur, looking sharply at Merlin.

Merlin sputtered several times, staring and blinking at the Prince in shock as if he had declared to be in love with Gaius. "Wh-what? You're, not... mad?"

Arthur frowned at him, looking confused. "Why would I be mad?"

"B-because!" Merlin waved his hands frantically. "I'm a Dragonlord's son!"

"A good thing, considering that thanks to you he just agreed to save Camelot," Arthur pointed out.

"I was the one who released the dragon in the first place!"

"In exchange for saving my life, apparently. Thanks for that, by the way."

"I have magic!" Merlin yelled at him. He was completely thrown off by how this was going in the exact opposite direction of what he had been anticipating, whenever he thought about having this conversation with Arthur. Which he had a lot ever since becoming his manservant. "I'm a warlock! I use magic in Camelot almost every day!"

"Again, to save my life and my father's," Arthur said carefully, watching Merlin as if he was the one reacting strangely. Which, to be fair, he was - wasn't he supposed to be convincing the Prince he had been using magic for a good purpose? "And at the risk of your own exposure on the top of it. By the way, I agree with Balinor - you _are_ out of your mind willingly coming to Camelot."

"You, you!" Merlin ran his hands through his hair, pacing. "How- why are you not angry?! I've been lying to you ever since we've met!"

Arthur squinted. "I'm not sure, exactly. Feeling angry kind of feels pointless, considering you've been lying to protect yourself and save my life over and over again. And magic can't really be all evil, if an idiot like you can have it since birth." He scratched his temple thoughtfully. "Although, logically, I know I should feel at least a _little_ betrayed you haven't trusted me with your secret..." He turned to the Dragonlord with a quizzical expression. "Is there a chance there was something in the stuff you used to heal me?"

"Ah," Balinor said with realization. "That might be it, I think. The herbs combined with the healing spell usually numb pain and dampen emotion to minimize the body's exhaustion from stress. You were supposed to sleep it off."

Merlin stared at the Prince with wide eyes. "You're _drugged_? No wonder you're reacting so well! I knew something was off."

"Even so," Arthur said patiently. "I'm well aware of what's going on, Merlin. I'm not angry with you."

"You're _going_ to be, once the drug wears off!"

"Fine, I'll be angry later! But that's beside the point. The point, _Mer_ lin, is that you'e my friend and I _trust_ you."

Merlin stopped, his eyes shining with something moist. "You... you do?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Arthur rolled his eyes. "Why do you think I put up with your clumsiness and annoying chatter all the time?"

"Hey!"

"I mean, it's going to change a lot of things between us. And I'm sure I'll be yelling at you a lot once this this emotion-dampening spell passes. But, I'm not going to report to my father."

"You're not?"

"Of course not! Do you have any idea how long it would take to train _another_ manservant all over again? It would be a nightmare!"

Merlin chuckled, cautiously. "Of course you'd worry about _that_ , you clotpole."

"It's a legitimate concern. If I got a servant any worse than you, Camelot would fall before fortnight."

Balinor watched the two banter for a while, quietly amazed at the friendship they displayed. It was a fortunate coincidence his herbs helped with the Prince's initial reaction to his son's talents, but he was more aware than the younger men how the healing spell exactly worked. While it was emotion-dampening, it didn't completely erase extreme emotions such as anger and betrayal. The fact that Arthur wasn't feeling them at all proved that the Prince truly meant was he said to Merlin about trusting him.

The Dragonlord used the distraction of the boys' bickering to quietly slip away.

Just as Merlin proceeded to call Arthur a clotpole for a second time, a loud road resounded through the forest like thunder.

 _ **"O, Drakon! E mala soi ftengometh...!"**_

Arthur turned in the direction of the words, listening intently. "Is that...?"

"Dragon speech? I think so," said Merlin. "Hey, isn't it strange that out of all magical creatures only dragons have their own language, even though they are perfectly capable of speaking in-"

"Shut up, _Mer_ lin! I'm trying to listen."

Balinor returned a few moments later. "Alright boys, I'm done. Kilgharrah will be here soon."

"Well that was unexpectedly easy," Merlin remarked with a bit of skeptical amazement.

Balinor raised his eyebrows. "What, did you think I would have to go on a dangerous journey back to Camelot, risking being betrayed by Uther for the second time or getting killed by some random bandits in your defense?"

"Um, kind of?"

"That would be the case, if my amazing Dragonlord powers - which I had over two decades to master might I add - were limited only to extremely short distances."

"So... you don't need to return to Camelot with us to stop the dragon?" Arthur summarized.

"Of course not! That would be ridiculous," Balinor replied. "The Dragon Call is a magical technique and have it work only within the human hearing range would make no sense whatsoever, because if the dragon was high enough from the ground he wouldn't be able to hear normally anyway."

"Huh," Merlin rubbed his chin. "That does make more sense."

 _ **"BALINOR!"**_ There was a loud roar as the Great Dragon landed dramatically in the clearing.

"Hello Kilgharrah," Balinor said with false cheerfulness. "Long time no see!"

"Young Dragonlord, what is the meaning of this? My rein of terror upon Camelot was not yet complete!"

"Yes, about that..." The Dragonlord's grin was razor-sharp. "I heard quite the tale of your escape."

Kilgharrah grumbled with displeasure. "Yes, your son had released me at long last, which was long overdue. What about it?"

"Tell me, is it true that you nearly had Merlin's mother die, _twice_?"

Kilgharrah fell suspiciously silent.

"Because you _surely_ remember the law of the Dragonlords concerning our soulmates? You are a thousand years old, after all, so I doubt mere twenty years of imprisonment had that big of an impact on your memory."

The Great Dragon, amazingly enough, _fidgeted_. "I was unaware that Merlin's mother held such status."

 _ **"Cacamara Drakon,"**_ Balinor snarled furiously. "You know me, we have a bond Kilgharrah, you _know_ I would never sire a child with anyone less than the woman I loved with my whole heart and soul!"

"How was I to know that the young Warlock was your-"

 ** _"Clúite suas!"_** he roared, shutting up the dragon instantly. "You _knew_ Merlin was my son! You knew the moment he stepped into Camelot! You manipulated him, you _used_ him, you made doubt his friends and almost cost him his mother, the only parent he had! How could you, Kilgharrah?!"

The dragon, due to Balinor's order, remained quiet. Merlin and Arthur didn't dare to as much as twitch in the face of the Dragonlord's fury.

 ** _"Labhair,"_** said the Dragonlord at last. "Explain yourself."

"It was necessary for Merlin to fulfill his-"

"-Destiny?" Balinor mocked. " _His_ destiny, or the destiny you chose for him? Because we both know there are many possible paths, _old friend_." His words were dripping with resentment.

The dragon growled quietly. "There are always necessary sacrifices in order to achieve the best destiny of all."

"I somehow fail to see how killing Hunith and burning Camelot are the best achievable destiny," Arthur gathered the courage to speak up, much to Merlin's surprise.

"That's because you, young King, fail to grasp the importance of-"

"Shut it, Kilgharrah," Balinor interrupted. "You played your part in destiny. You made sure I met Hunith and that Merlin was born. But you forgot yourself, Dragon. You are not Destiny's Master. You are merely one of the participants, just like the rest of us. The gift of foresight does not give you permission to decide whose lives to save and whose to ruin."

Seeing that Kilgharrah finally began to be cowed, he placed the finishing blow: "I should execute you for your betrayal against my family."

Merlin gasped. "You can't!"

The others stared in astonishment at his outburst.

"Why not, son?" Balinor asked, sounding surprisingly level-headed. "We have every right to. He is my kindred-spirited dragon, and he betrayed my trust. Kilgharrah knew what his transgression would cost him."

"Are you going to kill the last of my kind, young Dragonlord?" the dragon asked, unbelievably calm, though a bit sad.

"Don't do it," Merlin begged his father. "You can order him to do anything, right? Then banish him forever from Camelot. He won't hurt anyone else ever again, everyone's safe, and we get justice done."

Balinor gazed intensely at his son. "Is it truly what you want, Merlin?"

The younger man met his eyes confidently. He nodded.

"What about you, Prince Arthur?" Balinor asked, curious of how the son of Uther Pendragon was going to react to showing mercy to a magical creature.

Arthur looked at Merlin. His manservant gave him a pleading look. The Prince finally sighed.

"As much as I don't like it... Merlin's right. It doesn't cost us anything to spare the dragon, and killing the last of his kind..." He shook his head. "It sounds risky. I might still getting used to the idea that not magic is evil, but if Merlin has the blood of Dragonlords within him... who knows. Maybe we could use the aid of such a powerful beast on our side one day."

Merlin positively beamed, and Arthur had to look away to his embarrassment at the blatant gratitude.

Balinor sighed. "Very well. If my son and his friend both believe you should be spared, then so be it: **_Drakon, e mala soi_** ** _éalaithe_** ** _!_ **You are hereby banished from Camelot, until my son or I undo your sentence."

"You were shown mercy," Merlin said strongly. "Now, you must show mercy to others."

Kilgharrah, much to their surprise, bowed humbly to the three humans before him. "Thank you, young Dragonlord. Young Warlock. Young King. Truly, the time of Albion is at hand."

"Oh, and one more thing," Balinor said suddenly, making the dragon tense. "For additional punishment..."

The Great Dragon's eyes widened in horror. "No... don't you _dare_ , Balinor...!"

The last Dragonlord grinned in a wide, evil smile.

"From now on... I order you to speak only in unambiguous, simple, non-cryptic sentences!"

" _NOOOOO~!_ " the Great Dragon roared to the sky in utter despair.

 _The End._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Phew! That's taken awhile. I've been writing this piece for months. Oh yeah, Blue Teller still livin' and writin', man! Did you like it? Please let me know!**

 **Thanks for reading, please favorite and follow if you enjoyed it, pretty please review - those give me liiiife~! - but most importantly: read on and enjoy! :)**


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